


Can’t cheat death twice

by kirimos



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Red Robin (Comics), Superboy (Comics)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Boys In Love, Established Relationship, Eventual Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mild Language, Separation Anxiety, Tim Drake Needs a Hug, some violence towards the end
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-16
Updated: 2021-01-16
Packaged: 2021-03-14 07:00:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,961
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28791369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kirimos/pseuds/kirimos
Summary: You can’t cheat death twice, a fact that Tim is too aware ofTim won’t let Kon out of his sight in fear of losing him a second time.
Relationships: Tim Drake/Kon-El | Conner Kent
Comments: 3
Kudos: 32





	Can’t cheat death twice

**Author's Note:**

> I listened to Like Real People Do by Hozier on repeat while writing this and it broke my heart lol. Anyway I’ve always hated how canon handled Conner’s return in relation to Tim, I know Tim was in a dark place but I felt it really downplayed how much Conner’s death affected him. Anyway here’s some hurt/comfort <3

The anxiety arises out of such a mundane moment that Tim thinks he’s going crazy.

It’s date night, Tim’s hand is intertwined with Conner’s as they walk through the dimly lit streets of Gotham. They walk in silence, content to just orbit each other as they make their way to a new gelato bar a block away from their apartment. An elderly woman waddles towards them, intent on passing them when Conner notices a lead in her hand ushering to a small energetic Cavoodle. Like the dork he is, Conner’s face lights up, an open mouthed smile as he asks the woman in a rush if he can pet the dog. Tim feels a little sorry for the woman as he knows pet really means cuddle, but gets caught up in the marvel of a store fronts lights illuminating Conner’s face as he bends down in glee to attack the furry animal with love.

It is in that moment of serenity that a screech assaults his ear, the screech of tyres to be more specific. His head flinches upwards to see a Honda Civic racing towards their position on the sidewalk, the drivers face hysterical and panicked. Something un-identified grips his heart as he sees Conner shrink away from their position, protectively covering him and the old lady as they move.

It’s in this moment that Tim realizes that if this car hits them, it is going to hit Conner at full frontal force.

He thinks his heart stops.

Tim lost Conner once, that was two years ago now, and is still a subject he refuses to talk about. The grief of losing Conner was a feeling so visceral it still caused phantom pain in his chest. And right now, all he can imagine is Conner dying for a second time.

Deep down he knows this is Super Boy. A goddamn Honda Civic isn’t going to kill Super Boy and he knows that. He does. Which is why he’s baffled at the steadily rising panic filling his body yelling Conner Conner Conner as his breath stutters watching the vehicle speed towards them.

The car screeches again, brakes seemingly back in control, car arching to the side as it slides to a halt several meters away from them.

Holy shit.

Tim can hear Conner checking on the woman and her dog, asking them if they’re ok like the absolute sunshine he is while Tim catches the breath that was stuttering in his throat. He clenches his eyes shut and squeezes his fists together, taking a long shaky sigh as he calms down, slightly embarrassed over his panic. He’s a vigilante, he dances with death almost every day and a Honda Civic just had him scared.

When he opens his eyes Conner’s looking at him with furrowed brows, face still shining with beauty in the Gotham moonlight. He reaches forward and gently takes both of his hands in his, rubbing his thumb over Tim’s knuckles. It’s only then that he realizes his hands are shaking.

“Babe?” Conner’s looking at him, head tilt to the side almost resembling the dog they just risked death for that Conner risked death for but Conner's already died once I doubt he’d come back again

“Babe, hey” He catches his attention again and his eyes are soft and reassuring, the anxiety melts from him as he lets out a shaky laugh.

“Sorry, the car just got really close to you. I was-nervous”

Conner’s eyes light up and Tim sighs knowing what's coming as he sees a beautiful smile widen.

“Awwww were you worried about your little old boyfriend?” He swoops Tim into an overly showy hug and makes embarrassing little cooing noises. Only stopped when Tim elbows him in the stomach.

They continue on their way to the gelato bar, Tim gripping Conner’s hand marginally tighter than he was before.

____

The next time he experiences the same feeling he’s at work.

He’s sitting at his desk preparing for a board meeting when he feels a slight tightening in his chest, a sense of unease settling over his mind. He checks the documents opened on his computer, ensures that they’re saved and set on auto save, nope nothing wrong there. He calls in Tam and asks if he’s missing any wavers he needs to sign, nothing missing there too.

He tries to take his mind off the anxiety slowly spreading through his chest and head. He pulls up a recipe online, something he could try cooking tonight for him and Conner-

Oh.

He remembers Conner won’t be home tonight. Conner’s in Smallville visiting his family. Conner’s in Smallville where Tim can’t watch and make sure nothing bad happens to him. Conner’s in Smallville where he could die and Tim could never see him again-

He cuts his thoughts off before they escalate any further. Baffled at how frightened he became so quickly. Conner's always had visits to the Kent farm and he’s never felt this anxiety over it before.

He continues to try and keep his mind off it, leaving a sticky note on his desk, reminding him to call Conner and tell him he loves him when he gets off work.  
____

Tim’s hands grip the wheel tighter when he sees the street signs. He’s driving Conner to a new Thai restaurant that opened last week and they haven’t been able to steal many dates lately. But any excitement for a romantic candlelit dinner dims when he sees the route he has to take to get there. He has to drive through the Narrows.

Usually he wouldn’t even blink at the thought of driving through the Narrows now, this is Jason’s territory and if anything were to happen to him here he had no doubt Jason would come to his aid.

But the Narrows are dangerous, and he has precious cargo with him right now. What if their car breaks down and they have to get out and something happens to Conner, Conner getting mugged, Conner getting stabbed, Conner getting killed. Tim can’t gamble with those odds, he knows what a world without Conner Kent is like to endure and the thought of him in harm's way in Gotham's most dangerous neighborhood is making all the hairs on his arm raise in alarm and fuck he needs to find a way out of this before something bad happens, before something bad happens to Conner and he’s left alone again.

“Kon?”

“Yea Timmers?” casual, warm as if he isn’t being driven into the arms of peril all because Tim, it’s all his fault

“I don’t feel to good”

A frown makes its way onto Conner’s face and Tim hates that, hates how it contorts into a grimace like nature and grimacing is too close to pain and-

A hand lands on his forehead.

“You don’t feel warm, do you need to head home? We can watch movies and cuddle?”

Home, warm and safe. Safe for Conner.  
_____

Watching Conner’s face fall with disappointment makes Tim feel like the most evil bastard to ever exist.

“I’m sorry it’s nothing against you I just wanted to patrol alone tonight”

Conner watches him, shoulders slumped, eyes resigned. “Yeah sure, I’ll stay here”

“Conner-”

“It’s ok just go Tim”

As Tim climbs out the window for patrol, he feels a weight lift off his chest. He knows he disappointed him, but for tonight, just for tonight at least, Conner is safe. And that’s all Tim could ever ask for.

____

Tim sighs as he rises to consciousness, head pressed against his pillow with a weight that's sure to leave creased indents on the sleep induced puffiness of his cheeks. As his brain slowly wakes up he goes through his usual morning checklist. What’s the time, his gaze shifts to the alarm clock to see that it’s nine am. Good, he didn’t oversleep. Wake up Conner as the boy tends to sleep like the dead- no not the dead don’t say that. He slowly rolls to the side and is met with Conner’s eyes on him, glazed over, unblinking, a gaping, weeping hole in his chest. A hoarse shriek wrenches from his throat, he blinks the grogginess out of his eyes and Conner is nowhere to be seen. Conner is gone, Conner isn’t in bed with him just like before which can only mean one thing and Tim feels his face go numb, buzzing in his ears as he tries to take a breath that only catches in his throat because this is not happening again, not again.

“Kon” Tim wheezes into the open air, he feels cold and he can’t seem to take in a full breath as he blindly scrambles against the covers on Conner’s side of the bed, frantically searching for a dead boy. A dead boy who won’t come back because you can’t cheat death more than once and Tim feels his world tilt on its axis.

“Kon! Conner!” His shouts bounce off the walls as he stumbles off his bed, nearly toppling over the half step threshold of their (his, he’s alone for good now) bedroom into the kitchen.

“Kon!” He shrieks again despite knowing his efforts are in vain, tearing into the living looking for anything, any sign that a miracle occurred and he could still be here.

The pressure on Tim’s chest slowly weighs him to the floor because he knows beyond the shadow of a doubt that he can’t survive this again, living without Conner almost killed him the first time, hollowed him out in ways that still can’t be rectified. A heaving sob leaves him as the devastation truly hits him, breathing impossible as Tim presses his forehead against the living room floor. The accelerated thumping of his heart throbs at the front of his skull working at a speed he’s only ever felt through the effects of fear toxin. He can’t help but clutch both his hands on his chest in an attempt to just make it stop.

Through the chaos he hears the muffled sound of a window breaking and subconsciously hopes that whoever is about to attack him does the job so that everything would stop. Thundering footsteps make their way towards him and he vaguely wonders if this is the same assailant who took Conner away from him for the second time.

The living room floor thumps as someone lands heavily next to him, a muffled name is struck into the air around him but he can’t stop the heaving and pain in his chest to care because this can’t be happening again please god bring him back-

  
“Tim!” hands on his shoulders haul him into a sitting position, bony knees aching against the ground before large calloused hands place themselves gently on the sides of his face, an action so familiar Tim lets his eyes snap onto who those hands belong to. He gazes upon slight stubble flickered over an angled face, stark hair and eyebrows juxtaposing plush lips and soft eyes, eyes filled with panicked concern and Tim feels his head spin with the realization as Conner pants in front of him. Jittery hands somehow cradle his head further, two thumbs tenderly wiping away his tears and Tim can’t help but wonder why his hands are jittery and if he’s ok and if he’s going to leave again. He then realizes his hands are shaking because his hands are on his face and his face is shaking because he can’t breathe but that doesn’t matter because Conner is somehow here. In front of him, holding him. He feels dizzy with relief and exhaustion.

“Tim? Sunshine? C’mon tell me what’s wrong where are you hurt? Talk to me, Tim what happened” His hair, littered curls and knots framing shaved, rough sides are tousled and pointing in contradictory directions, his face contorted in growing fear and Tim can’t control himself and just lunges

On instinct his hands wrap around Conner’s neck, hands envelop themselves in familiar, comforting hair as he buries his face in the dip of his right shoulder. Pulling himself as close as possible, intertwining bodies and trying his hardest to breathe him in except he still can’t properly breathe. He passes on feeling any embarrassment at the whimpers that crescendo into sobs as he burrows his nose further into Conner’s shoulder because Conner’s here and he can do that and the moments he spent a mere minute ago thinking that wouldn’t be possible are still making his organs feel cold, dripping down his insides. He hears a cacophony of breathe sunshine, c’mon and you’re ok, just calm down baby I’m here which only inclines Tim to cling him like he’s drowning even more because he never thought he’d hear that voice again.

A gentle hand lifts his chin to allow to meet Conner’s eyes. The other hand directed to rest palm spread over Conner’s chest.

“Breathe with me sunshine”

Slow steady movements guide his hand up and down and Tim's first attempt to regulate his breathing finds him having a breath scrape in his throat and his body rocks with a rough cough. When he attempts a second time he feels his chest follow through a full cycle, and another and another and another until his head is balanced back on a sturdy shoulder with a hand performing gentle maneuvers in his hair, fingers buried in his locks grounding him back to to the present as he further melts into his boyfriend.

They sit like that in silence for several minutes as the hysteria boils over and utter shame trickles in as Tim realizes that he just had a panic attack because Conner was merely out of the house. Red rises in his face and he just wants to hide and pretend this never happened and apologize to Conner who probably thought he was in danger when in reality he was just being irrational and stupid and-

“Timmers”

Tim shakily raises his head to meet Conner’s eyes, hands once again move to hold his face, the gentle gesture almost making him break again.

“You weren’t here.” A phrase shakily wrung out and he finds himself being unable to blink and continues to lose himself in the face of his boyfriend.

“Sweetie I was helping Ma on the farm, shit did I forget to tell you that last night?” And he didn't. That's the thing he remembers Conner telling him that he had to leave early to help with some heavy lifting but the stark fear brought with the possibility of losing him overpowered all logic in his brain.

“No, no you did it’s just-”

He swallows, adams apple bobbing up and down.

“You were gone.” Said with finality, quietly strewn between the two boys.

It takes a moment for the words to settle in and Conner slowly deflates.

“Oh, Oh Tim” Arms wrapped around him once again except this time Conner makes sure their foreheads are pressed together, not being lost from each other's sight.

“I’m sorry, Fuck I’m so embarrassed I know it’s irrational it’s just- I’ve been getting so anxious lately whenever I’m not with you because I just can’t imagine losing you again-” he curls his fingers around Conner’s biceps “If I’ve learnt anything over the past few years its that death can be so fucking sudden Kon, and I’m scared that I’m gonna blink and you’re gonna be gone, I can’t survive that again, every time you leave my sight it’s all I can think about” The worlds tumble out of him without his permission but he can’t bring himself to care because this has been bottling up for so long and the relieving pressure of verbalizing his anxiety alleviates the stress running rampant throughout his system.

“Ever since that car stopped in front of me right?”

He gives a shaky nod in response.

A sad sigh. “Tim I’ve noticed you becoming more anxious ever since that day. When you detoured miles away from The Narrows on our date the other week, you’ve been clinging to me harder than you usually do at night and I- I’ve been wanting to bring it up with you but I know you can get clammed up sometimes. I should've done it anyway and I’m sorry. But, hey look at me, You have nothing to be embarrassed about. Nothing. Tim if our roles were reversed and I lost you, If I had to live without you for a year I would never let you out of my sight. Hell I’d never let you out of my arms. I wanna help you through this ok? I think you have some form of separation anxiety and I-”

A shrill beep interrupts Conner’s voice. Two heads turn towards the Red Robin communicator laying haphazardly on the couch.

“I-” a long heaving sigh, “should probably get that.” He rises from his position on the floor, knees cracking.

“Tim, we have to talk about this.”

“I know this could be important though-”

Shit.

“Tim?” Expectant, slightly concerned. Conner tandem leaving his position on the floor

“Attempted Arkham breakout. Inmates have taken over but haven’t escaped the security system yet” Words said as his legs already stride to where his Red Robin suit is kept folded next to his bo staff and utility belt.

“I have to go, this is serious. But-” He turns, looking at Conner he realizes that means being separated again and he already feels the sense of unease rising in him.

Conner has always been able to read him, better than anything else.

“I'm coming with you, and after, we figure this out ok?” Warm, reassuring, Conner. In his recent state of stress over his boy he would push Conner away from any potential harm like earlier in the week, but physically right now, he couldn’t handle him being out of his sight.

He nods.

______

As always, Arkham is an absolute shit show.

But to give credit where credits are due, at least the Joker was still detained in the most secure cell in the whole prison with an intricate security system provided by Wayne Enterprises. Tim doesn’t have time to dwell on any pride he may feel on his and Lucious’ behalf as he dodges a thundering punch from Killer Croc.

He can hear Conner nearby absolutely rocking Mr Freeze, quelling any concerns of his well being. Plus he can’t help but think damn that's hot as he hears him fight someone so seamlessly. Dick is in the room adjacent to them, door swung open as he flips between knocking out a hoard of Joker goons

He was anxious at first to bring Conner in unannounced per Bruce's “No metas in Gotham rule” but as the Batman gave Conner a quick nod and an acknowledging “Superboy” he realized that he was probably glad for the extra help. And maybe, just maybe, Conner’s charisma last Thanksgiving won Bruce over.

He bounds off a wall with his left leg, on the defense of another hit from Croc and directs himself to kick the creature in the head with both feet pointed outwards. His blow hits in the exact trajectory he designed as Croc scrambles backward, clutching his head with a grunt of pain.

Tim lands back on the floor triumphant and ready for round two when he notices Croc isn’t looking at him anymore, isn’t in a fighting stance ready to kill which is extremely out of character for someone named Killer Croc for god sake. No, instead he’s looking at something else. Looking at someone else.

Looking at Conner.

Conner.

All ego and excitement drain from Tim’s face, he feels as if ice cold water has just been dumped all over his body because Killer Croc is looking at Conner and he doesn’t like the intent of that at all. He can already feel the panic rising at a rapid pace because Conner is distracted with Mr Freeze and Killer Croc is looking at him like prey and Conner’s in danger, His Conner is in danger.

Croc arches his back legs out, preparing for a lunge and Tim can see it from a mile away, it’d be impossible not to with all the tactical training with Bruce. The rational section of Tim’s brain tells him that Conner is a meta, Conner can fly, Conner is fast. He could easily dodge a lunge from Killer Croc and he doesn’t doubt that’s exactly what he’ll do when the latter happens. But the rational section of his brain isn't pulling the reins right now and all he can feel and see and do is danger Conner’s in danger don’t let anyone touch him not again never again. Before he gives his body full permission to do so, he’s bouncing off the wall as leverage as Killer Croc soars towards Conner, body ready to intercept, not taking into account the damage he’ll take colliding with a creature of such brute strength, a murderous creature of such brute strength.

“Superboy!” He bellows as he moves through the air. He see’s Conner turn around, eyes already identifying the rueful creature lunging towards him and he prepares to dodge because this is Conner and he can do so easily. It’s at this moment that he sees his boyfriend realize just where he is headed, and what his intent is. His eyes widen and he sees Conner attempt to speed towards him out of harm's way but it’s too late and Tim hears the impact before he feels it. A crash resonating through the room along with a crack that can only belong to multiple of Tim’s ribs.

He can’t help but feel sorry for Jason in this moment because this is what he imagines having a building fall down on you feels like and he thinks that maybe he should be nicer to his older brother because it hurts worse then he can comprehend.

He hits the floor. Heat cracking against the concrete. Killer Croc poised on top of his chest. He thinks he distantly hears someone yell for Red Robin in a high pitched roar before Croc squares both arms pushes. He lets a guttural scream rip out of him, vision white, ears rushing as ribs stab through the soft tissue of his lungs. He gasps, mouth opening and closing as he tries and fails to breathe, reminiscent of his panic attack this earlier but so much worse because it hurts so fucking much. He can already feel wetness building in his throat and he’s in too much agony to think about the implications of that because his brain is foggy and his vision is darkening at the edges.

On the bright side the pressure alleviates from on top of him accompanied by a vengeful scream, the sound of fists reverberating against a face muffled in his hearing. Another wet gasp forces out of his throat, a wet substance flowing down his chin and wow his vision is dimming quicker than he thought it would. He feels his eyelids flutter as a face fills his field of vision and the face is upset, crying and hands desperately grab at his face and Tim wants to do nothing more than run his hand over the face's cheek but he can’t move and his body is dimming. He thinks he’s choking but he can’t be sure, he doesn’t know how much time has passed but now there’s a second face in his dimming field of vision, clad in black and blue with just as much worry as the first face. He thinks he hears a desperate scream for a “Batman” before his eyes shut without his permission. He feels a harsh slap to his face and wet droplets fall on his cheeks before he loses consciousness.


End file.
